Come little Children
by sailorpallas
Summary: A story of a small town, lost to the mists of time.


No one knew how it had started. Why it had started. Few even knew when it had started. Only one thing was for sure: it had become a sign of terror.

They seemed innocent enough. Like gentle balloons floating on the breeze, they all just appeared one Friday and soon became the Pokémon of choice for children. Many of them would stay with a child without any Pokéball, seeming to like just being around others. The adults largely disliked them having blank eyes that seemed to pull the mind in and constantly humming a tune to which the children sang along with.

A heavy fog began to roll gently into the valley; the town took no notice of it as it was not uncommon for the area. Life was calm and peaceful; until the first child disappeared.

It happened so suddenly that people didn't know what to think. He seemed to have just vanished into the night. No one noticed that there was one more Drifloon playing with the children. The fog never lifted from the town and the amount of visitors seem to reduce, but it was a small town and very few people tended to notice any outsiders in the first place. In fact, the town almost considered the fog a blessing, bringing forth a peace from people who wished to do them harm.

It was a dark Friday when the children disappeared - three this time, all of them gone without a trace, almost as if they had never existed; just faded into the fog. A few people noted that the number of Drifloon seemed to have increased, though they could not be sure.

Parents were becoming afraid to let their children out; they brought in Drifloon to act as friends and kept them inside as much as they could. During the night they would take turns keeping watch to try and dissuade whoever was luring the children away. Many blamed Hypnos. A few blamed foreigners. No one blamed the culprit.

It was three weeks later that it happened again: another two children were gone. The guard was found on the ground, wracked with spasms, eyes wide open, speaking in gibberish.

"Away, they went. Play in shadows my garden NO. Co...Come with the eyes, help they, why! I'll be good I promise... I promise..."

He passed away that same day.

Some families took this as the last straw. They tried to move away, but the fog was too thick and they always found themselves back where they had started, swearing that they would leave as soon as the fog let up. The village became only more vigilant in their guards, sending two or three people out at once.

One man, however, had started to think something was odd. No matter what, he stayed in on Fridays guarding his only child, a daughter. They only had each other, as his son had been the first to be taken away. They were happy in their own way and she was safe, having moved her bed into his room. They stuck together.

One Friday though he felt drowsy extremely early, as though sleep was being forced upon him. He saw out of the corner of his eyes his daughter skipping out of the house hand in hand with a Drifloon while chanting:

"Come little Children  
I'll take thee away  
Into a land of enchantment"

He bolted after her, still feeling the effects of that odd sleep and the edge of a headache. As he got closer the headache grew worse; he was just about to grab her when the throbbing forced him onto his knees. He pushed himself up and continued after his daughter - that's when he heard it. Dozens of children, all of the children in the village it seemed, each singing the same tune in perfect unison:

"Come little Children  
The times come to play  
Here in my garden of shadows"

Each one was led by a Drifloon, all floating in a world of pure white mist. And that's when he blacked out. He dreamt of things he never wanted to think about. He watched as the children sang the last notes of their song

"Rest now my Children  
For soon we'll away  
Into the calm and the quiet"

They all started to scream in anguish, their bodies being pulled apart by the Drifloon, but there was no blood, they were hollow like cocoons. The only thing inside was a new Drifloon which floated out of what used to be a child.

He woke up screaming and ran outside; the village was completely covered in fog deeper than it had ever been before. He ran to the mayor's house whose daughter he had seen.

"Mayor your daughter she..." he started

"Right here," the mayor said as he waved his hand over towards a nearby Drifloon. "Come say hello, dear." It gently floated over humming that same haunting tune that it taught the children. "Oh honey, you do so love that song, don't you?" The mayor looked up and his eyes were blank; no emotion. No mind. Nothing behind them.

The woodcutter backed up, falling over his own feet, when he heard a voice coming from behind him.

"Weep not poor Children  
For life is this way  
Murdering beauty and Passions"

It was his son and daughter singing that... Singing that lovely song they seemed to love.

Some people say that when you walk towards Celestic town you can sometimes hear a gentle song coming from deep within the fog. If you follow the song then you will find a lost town frozen in time inhabited only by Drifloon. Floating. Humming. Waiting.


End file.
